Points of Clarification and Farewell, Catholic Readers (I understand if you want to leave)

At the risk of great understatement, I wrote a lot on Tuesday, and in re-reading it I wanted to make sure my main points were not lost in all those words:

1. Communion: I said at the beginning that “we” have never been denied communion when we have visited a Catholic church. That “we” is Matt and I, not either of the boys. We have been given and have taken communion in a few different Catholic churches, knowing it’s against the rules but thinking that our notion of “one baptism” is correct, and again it’s not our bread/wine/table. The thought that anyone, but especially our beautiful wonderful son who has a disability, might be turned away at the altar, is one of the more unbearable possibilities of life. I mean, really. Think about the Last Supper, and if some small child (Jesus was pretty generous to them, remember) had come, asking for something to eat and to hear some of the wonderful stories Jesus was telling … anyone who thinks Jesus would’ve quizzed them about their stance on abortion or assisted suicide or who can receive Last Rites … is crazy, in my humble opinion. That’s my main point – Jesus would not have turned anyone away, so I don’t think we get the right to do that, either. (keep reading, please)

Sub-point (A): I think the website/article I referenced so extensively (sorry, folks) is dead-on in terms of broadening the idea of “sufficient understanding.” While Matt and I were discussing it in terms of, well heck no one really understands it (which is still a perfectly valid point), they talked about the ability and necessity of adapting curricula and perhaps giving the benefit of the doubt that even though a particular person is not able to recite canon law chapter and verse before their catechism class, they can likely still grasp the significance of the meal as something special and many folks can likely absorb, Jesus died for us on the cross and these are the symbol of that sacrifice. I realize that goes right past the idea of transubstantiation, which (this is the farewell part) I personally think is … crazy. I mean, if someone walked up to you on the street and started talking about this same idea, but applied to something else, you’d think it was crazy, right?

(Stock photo of the big moment, source of the phrase "hocus pocus" which to me is a useful way of thinking about it: [buzzer] hocus pocus these are no longer symbols they are the actual body and blood, congratulations!

Yes, in the Methodist church we consecrate the elements, and they are thereafter treated differently from other bread and juice (you can't just throw away leftovers - you have to pour out the juice on the ground and scatter the bread for the birds), but they remain bread and juice. 

Sub-point (B): The website also did a fabulous job of emphasizing the need to consult other people about individual cases – developmental psychologists, special education teachers and counselors, etc., and to not simply assume that because someone has Down syndrome or cerebral palsy or whatever else, that an understanding of the Eucharist and other sacraments is automatically beyond their reach. They also discussed the importance of surrounding the immediate family or caregivers with a close support group, all of whom will work to influence the child’s religious teaching over the years.

Sub-point (C): Matt took his youth to this great church in Asheville last year that does a lot of outreach ministry with people who are homeless. He said one day while they were visiting and planning to help out with lunch, the sanctuary was busy with clients and folks assisting them in various ways. The sanctuary had a beautiful, hand-carved altar table that said across the front, “Do This in Remembrance of Me.” For those non-participators out there, this is in the communion liturgy with the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, do this as often as you eat it or drink it, in remembrance of me. 

On this day communion was not being served – one of the homeless clients had the leash to his dog tied around the leg of the table, and a social worker had a laptop sitting on top of it, helping people get signed up for Food Stamps. Matt said that while some folks might get pretty upset that the table was being used in this way, he thought, this is the “this,” in “do this.” You know? The table is lovely and does have a specific, sacred purpose, but I can totally see Jesus scooting all the paraments and lousy offering plates out of the way, if it did even one tiny thing to facilitate getting someone the assistance they need, and welcoming him/her into God’s house and Jesus’ embrace. This image has really stuck with me, in case you can’t tell.

2. Campuses: Not a lot here, not sure the original thing was saying much anyway :). But re: Simon, one of the greatest joys of parenting is watching how his interests change and grow as he gets older, and I can’t wait to see where he’ll want to go to school and what he’ll want to do with his life. Current plan: paleontologist, but I’m assuming that’s a pretty common dream for a 5 y.o. Re: David: Matt and I want very much for everyone to see him for exactly who he is, and not to make any assumptions about what he can and can’t do. I suppose for people to stereotype his sweet nature as being due to him having Down syndrome is not the worst thing that could happen to your kid. And I don’t want to be one of those pain in the butt parents who seizes every available opportunity to lecture other folks about their kid’s disorder. Maybe we will just smile and nod and know, between the two of us, that him having DS has nothing to do with exactly how great he is.

3. Diversity: I certainly appreciate that raising Simon and David to be (somewhat) worldly young men, and understanding/appreciating/believing that God loves every single person exactly the same, is more than just making sure they see some black people on a regular basis. And this goal is not necessarily precluded by living in this tiny all-white town. But I want them to be surrounded by opportunities to learn about the 6 billion or so ways there are to dress, eat, worship and live. We will do our part, and we are already taking advantage of any natural opportunities – Simon’s love of animals has led to discussions about the great and challenging things about living in Africa, India, China, etc.; his love of maps makes it easier to have discussions about history and climates and … everything. I’d simply like to have lots of opportunities to visit museums, ethnic restaurants, different houses of worship, etc., without having to drive an hour or more to do so.

(I will take a moment to brag on my eldest son – he probably knows more geography than a lot of adults. He knows all the continents, though he’s a little fuzzy on Europe. He knows: US/Canada/Mexico, Brazil/Argentina/Chile, Kenya/Uganda/Madagascar, India/Sri Lanka,/China/Japan, Indonesia, Russia and Australia. He can’t point out the UK or France on the map yet, but he knows Big Ben is in London and the Eiffel Tower is in Paris.

In the US he knows North & South Carolina, Georgia and Florida, Tennessee/Illinois, New York, Virginia, Oklahoma/Nebraska, Texas, and California. How cool is that? He’s naturally really curious, but in this instance I’m particularly pleased with how we’ve fostered that curiosity, with a big map of the World in our room, and a big US map in the boys’ room. He also recently found a Mexico and Central America map in one of my National Geographics, so we may work on that next but so far he’s having a hard time pronouncing Nicaragua, etc., which I understand. So he’s on his way and I’m sure he’ll drag David along with him, far beyond the point David has any understanding or interest J )